


"m.. 

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1 





Class -LI ^JI??}/ 
Copyright N^__/2^!j>_ 

COPVRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



MY NEXT IMITATION 

BY 

HOLWORTHY HALL \i^J^A. ^ 



PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY 

WILLIAM J. CLARK 

1913 



073^' 



©aA3612S8 



ALIBI 



Most of the material in this volume is 
here reprinted with the kind permission of 
LIFE. 

Other parts of it were ruthlessly rejected 
by the same publication. 

The HARVARD LAMPOON also ran. 

H. H. 



(Copyright, 1911, 1912, 1913, by life PubUshing Company) 
(Copyright, 1913, by Harold E. Porter) 



This volume is respectfully dedicated to 

L. C. SMITH 

Without whose typewriter most of the 

within gems would have been 

written in long hand 

ALSO 

To the following unsuspecting parties : 

R. Kipling 
Walt Whitman 
Stephen Leacock 
Mary Northend 
Maxim Gorky 
R. W. Babson 
Walter Camp 
Henri Matisse 
G. R. Chester 
Samuel Johnson 
James Boswell 
W. S. Gilbert 
Richard Le Gallienne 
The New York Sun 
Arnold Bennett 
Rooters, Indians, Roommates, Cubists, Etc. 



EPITHALAMIUM 

(^The result of a second-hand copy of Walt Whitman.) 

I SING the song of the June bride ; 
I sing it impartially to suffragette, vegetarian, stenographer, 
cubist, Armenian, dressmaker or debutante. 

I sing the June bride out of step to the wedding march ; 

The thankful mother weeping copiously on her jabot; 

The father rejoicing as a young man to run in debt; 

The bridesmaids ingenuously memorizing the ritual. 

I sing the June bride, and as a quaint novelty in the manner of 
Walt Whitman I append a transient thought for the bride- 
groom ; 

Rah, rah, rah! Bridegroom! 

I salute you, bridegroom, whether you are a namby-pamby milk 
lusher, or a turkey trotter, or a buU-mooser, or a single- 
taxer, or a deliberate and unqualified falsifier, or a curly 
wolf from the Back Bay, Boston, Mass. 

That's me every time — that's the kind of man I am ; that's the 
way I write poetry. 

O happy, happy day ! 

O happy caterer, and O happy bride! 

trebly happy occasion if no relative, no fortuitously related 

malefactor of great wealth was omitted from the list of 
invitations. 

1 earnestly trust that no salt adulterates the ice cream ; I breathe 

anathema against a caterpillar on the orange blossoms. 
I crave no false note in the hired choir, and I see no rea- 
son why these young people should not be joined asunder. 
O joyous day of the wedding when no reporter forgets to report 
the silver bon-bon forks, rarebit forks, pickle forks, cold 
meat forks, pudding forks, salad forks, tuning forks, des- 
sert forks, and the inevitable art lamp shade for the living 
room. 



8 MV NEXT IMITATION 

And especially happy day if there are no marked duplicates 

among the wedding gifts. 
I sing the epithalamium to the bride. 
Let her name be Kelly or Rosenthal or Duchamps or Vogelweide 

or Stavoropolo or Garcia or Smith ; 
Let her be a string-bean or a perfecto shape, and let her be 

blonde, brunette or a subject for arbitration. 
Indifferent to the above, I praise the wedding reception 

marshalled on the general principles of the bread line ; 
I hymn the wedding breakfast at three o'clock in the afternoon ; 
I glorify the police interference at the church; and I laud the 

clergyman sending in a statement on the first of the month 

instead of demanding settlement on a cash basis. 

O cheerful news that the decorators have finally finished the job; 

O thankful statement that the confetti neglected to arrive ; 
O gladsome tidings that the best man is still in possession of the 

ring. 
O secret rumor that the happy couple are bound for Niagara 

Falls, Switzerland, Atlantic City, Rome (Italy), Rome 

(N. Y.), Dresden, Muncie, or to olive-silvery Hoboken- 

by-the-Tube. 
On to the church ! On to the ceremony ! On to the free lunch ! 

bride, you who cleverly crossing your fingers promise to obey 

whomsoever you marry that he may obey you ; 
And bridegroom, pledging your worldly goods as an endowment 
or a schedule of liabilities as the case may be; 

1 sing your wedding song not because I claim any especial merit 

in singing wedding songs, but because of an insatiate de- 
sire to sing something. 
And to brides and bridegrooms, male and female, civilized, semi- 
civilized and barbarous, living whether in Harlem flats or 
Kedar's tents or Fifth Avenue palaces or instalment bunga- 
lows out in the rhubarb belt, I lilt this recessional to wish 
you purer food and better babies and fewer divorces and 



MY NEXT IMITA TION 9 



a lower cost of living, not to mention an increasing love 
for uplifting, inspiring, imperishable lyrics such as mine. 
(The applause accented, as in the Congressional Record.) 

And you who are not June bridegrooms, nor yet June brides. 
Remembering always that men should marry when they will, 

and maidens when they can 

You should worry. 



THE SAME OLD CHRISTMAS STORY 

(Being a Szmpe from Stephen Lcacock) 

TT was Christmas Eve. The lights and decorations, and 
-■- the display of February magazines on the brilliantly 
illuminated newstands almost beggared description. 
Lower Broadway was densely packed with starving or- 
phans. Some of them starved audibly. Little children 
stood weeping in front of toyshop and bakery windows ; 
and a few of the kinder proprietors, overcome by the 
spirit of the season, forgot their traditional aversion to 
this sort of thing, and let them weep as much as they 
liked. One of the biggest doughnut princes went so far 
as to show them just where they could stand when they 
did it. 

Long lines of constables armed with foreclosure papers 
filed steadily up and down the snowy streets. The shouts 
of the police, as they gaily arrested the prodigal sons who 
always drift homeward at this time of year, were so fre- 
quent that they sounded like a continuous Harvard cheer. 

Think of the fear gripping at the heart of the bank clerk 
who, when his babies were wailing pitiably for a well- 
known brand of advertised milk, mortgaged the bank, 
and finds the interest due to-night. Think of the pain in 
the heart of the wayward boy as he remembers those 
happy days when he was sixteen or seventeen years old, 
prattling merrily about the house on Christmas Eve, 
busily putting up the same old bluff that he believed in 
Santa Claus. Think of the thousands of mothers whose 
souls are torn in anguish this night, because Willie did 



JfF NEXT IMITATION 11 

not come home. And after her layinjf for him since six 
o'clock with the potato masher, too. Isn't it heart-rend- 
ing to consider the tragedy and the comedy of Christmas 
Eve, with the snow fading faster and faster yet, and the 
street cleaning department having to work overtime ? Yes, 
it is heart-rending; most of all for the members of the 
street cleaning department. 

Ont of the door of the Seaview Golf Club on the cor- 
ner of Fourth and Fifth Avenues came Percy DeCal- 
comania. He v/as so fashionably dressed that he was al- 
most out of style. He was clad in up-to-the-minute suit- 
ings, shirtings, pantings, vestings, overcoatings and a mal- 
acca cane. Close to the curb his limousine kept pace with 
him. It was filled with the advance styles in overcoatings, 
suitings, shirtings and pantings for the next fifteen or 
twenty minutes, so that in case the fashions changed while 
he was on the street, Percy could dodge into the limousine 
and change, too, reappearing once more as a clean-limbed 
specimen of American manhood. 

On the threshold of another club the young millionaire 
suddenly halted. Standing in the doorway he halted some 
more, and turning, still at a halt, he cast his patrician 
glance out over the glittering panorama of Fifth Avenue. 
Something in him stirred and struggled for expression. 
He opened his mouth, and very unobtrusively, as his 
parents had told the governess to teach him, he closed it. 
All by himself. You would have been convinced that 
something was on his mind, and only his very closest 
friends could have told you that it was merely his hat. 



1 



12 MV A EXT IMITATION 

The spirit of Christmas was rising in the soul of Percy 
DeCalcomania, and he felt it. 

"Bristles !" he said sharply to his chauffeur, who was in 
reality the Duke of Westchester, doing it on a bet. 

"Are you there?" replied the Englishman respectfully. 

"Bristles, what day is it?" 

"The four and twentieth of the eleventh, sir." 

"In other words, Christmas Eve?" 

"Yes, sir," said Bristles, after hardly more than a min- 
ute's calculation. "Yes, sir — one might call it that, sir." 

"Very good," approved the young millionaire. "Peace 
on earth, good form among gentlemen, eh?" 

"No doubt, sir. That is the general tendency, sir." 

DeCalcomania went into the club, and, seating himself 
at a cocktail table, rang the cocktail gong. 

"Boy," he said, "Merry Christmas !" 

There was no answer. The boy had not yet arrived. 

Percy rang the gong again, and after waiting fully six 
seconds without response, he snapped his fingers petu- 
lantly, and clapped one hand. Then he went to the next 
table where he rang a highball gong. Then he said. 
"How perfectly beastly!" Then he pulled the whistle 
cord. 

A boy glided gently into the room, and stood trembling. 

"Bring me a match," said the young millionaire kindly. 
"Tell me, my lad, why the delay, kid, why the delay?" 



MV NEXT IMITA TION 33 

"Please, sir," replied the urchin, stepping to one side so 
as not to sob on the priceless rugs, 'to-morrov/'s Christ- 
mas.... and we. .we. .we're playing poker to buy pres- 
ents for our mothers." 

Again the spirit of the day welled up and smote Percy 
across the thorax with a resounding thump. Even the 
small boys, it seemed, were giddy with the glory of the 
day which is unique in this respect, that it comes but 
once in any given period of time. 

"Here," said the young clubman, in a sudden burst of 
generosity. "You can keep the rest of the match as a 
souvenir, my lad. Merry Christmas 1" 

Left alone in tlie vast clubroom, Percy DeCalcomania 
leaned back in his chair and thought. Christmas ! He 
thought how little he had ever thought of Christmas be- 
fore, and hov.^ little he had ever done to make the world 
a pleasanter place to live in. Christmas ! How queer 
and unpleasant it would seem to be living anywhere else. 
Christmas ! How much he could have done if he had 
only had a chance — if he had only had time to spare from 
his gigantic business enterprises, which daily rolled higher 
and higher his piles of sodden gold. His conscience 
gnav^ed him, and at first he belligerently gnawed back, 
but overcome at length with the memory of his past life, 
he gradually allowed himself to v^^eaken, and to suffer 
violently. Yes, he told himself with a great throb of ex- 
altation, he couldn't be so very worthless after all, for he 
could still suffer. He suffered for some time without 
interruption. 



1 



14 A/V NEXT IMITATION 

Christmas ! What could he do to observe the spirit of 
the day? He thought of the poor, and he remembered 
hearing once that twenty-five thousand of them are crying 
for bread. He listened intently, and dismissed the report 
as unsupported by evidence. Should he endow a library ? 
No. Should he build a church? No. Should he take the 
orphans on a joy-ride? No. Should he pay his debts? 
Never. 

And yet, while the snow continued to fall softly amid 
the muffled curses of the street cleaners, the soul of 
Percy DeCalcomania was seared with sorrow, and soaked 
with sentiment. What the day demanded of him was self- 
sacrifice, renunciation, and atonement. He decided that 
he would begin by sacrificing cigars. He followed this 
by renouncing cigar-holders. He atoned for both these 
decisions by lighting a cigarette. Then he leaned back 
again, and began to plan a lasting monument of the 
charity and mercy and benevolence of Percy DeCalco- 
mania. 



II 

In a humble tenement on Park Avenue a widow sat sur- 
rounded by her starving children. The oldest of them 
was a gentle boy of not more than forty-two or three 
years of age ; and the youngest was a delicate lass of 185 
pounds Fahrenheit, who had now seen seven happy sum- 
mers. The other twenty-eight she had been released on 
parole. The widow herself was cm!)roidering red 



My NEXT IMITATION 15 

and green lobsters on a canvas derrick-cover by the faint 
glimmer of a single flaming arc light, which was the sole 
illumination of the tiny room. 

"Mother," said the oldest boy, "I'm hungr}- !" 

"Hush, dear," said the feeble widow, patiently hit- 
ting him over the head to quiet him. "If I can only finish 
this derrick-cover in another couple of weeks, we will 
soon have food again. Ah, the beautiful food ! Little 
does Percy DeCalcomania, the rich derrick-maker, know 
how we suffer !" 

The oldest boy got up and bit ofif a large piece of plas- 
ter that jutted out from the south-west wall. The small- 
est girl, who was too young for such Spartan diet, sniffed 
pitiably, and fell to playing solitaire with a deck of pic- 
ture postcards. The other children, faint and pale with 
hunger, huddled in a corner on the heap of hay that 
served them as a bed, and shivered. 

"Oh, mother," they cried, "we're so cold!" 

The poor widow, equal to every emergency, took the 
door off the hinges, and laid it gently over them. Soon 
they slept. The youngest girl, having caught herself 
cheating at solitaire, slapped her own face, and cried her- 
self to sleep. The oldest boy ran to his mother's off 
knee. 

"Mother," he said, "why do you work so hard, and 
why do you always look so sad? Is there no hope for an 
easy job for you somewhere? Is there no moral justice 
in this great city?" 

"No," she told him, "not one." And then she added, 
"I work to buy food for my little ones." 



16 MV NEXT IMITA TION 

"But why are you so sad ?" 

"Ah," she said, hastily wiping away a tear, lest it 
should fall upon and injure the delicate fabric, "that is 
for your sake, my dear. It is so that you can sleep peace- 
fully and without fear." 

"Let me help you," begged her brave little son. "Please, 
mother, let me help you ! I am big and strong now — I 
will go to sleep at once without the least inconvenience. 
And if, as you hint, we shall have food soon — say by the 
middle of January — all will be well." 

"Good night, brave lad," she said tenderly. A few 
minutes later she paused in her weary task to listen rap- 
turously to her sleeping children. As she listened the 
sordid room faded away, and she fancied herself again in 
her childhood home on R. F. D. No. 4, Musquash Creek, 
where her father's house was next to a planing mill. 
Then she patiently resumed her never-ending task. And 
it was Christmas Eve ! She grew hungrier and hungrier ! 
Another fortnight before she could buy more food ! She 
writhed. She reeled. She was rapidly going from bad 
to worse. She was a quarter crazy — a quarter. . . .up an 
eighth ! a half five eights. . . . ! 

"Children !" she shrieked. "I have it ! Get up ! Get 
up!" 

Almost immediately there was a knock on the door. 
The knocker will enter inside the next thousand words. 



Afr NEXT IMITATION 17 



III 

Percy DeCalcomania, driven to the last ditch of re- 
morse, got a piece of paper, and resigned from the club. 
That was an act of charity. Then he resigned from an- 
other club. That was a sign of benevolence. Then, re- 
joicing in the abnegation of self, he resigned from sixteen 
other clubs. The members thereof would have called it 
an indication of mercy. Then he threw the resignations 
in the fire. That was because he was cold. 

His brain was struggling to concentrate upon some 
worthy object of his reclaimed soul, Vv'hen he chanced to 
look at the clock. It was a typical club clock. It struck 
nine, and as the hands were pointing to twenty-seven 
minutes of four, that proved that it was about half past 
ten. It was growing late. . . .yes, later than that. What 
should he do? What could he do? Christmas! Charity! 
To whom ? Who to ? 

Like a lightning flash he thought of the poor derrick- 
cover maker in her dingy tenement, embroidering that 
never-ending decorative border of red and green lobsters 
on the derrick-cover for four cents a square foot. Twenty- 
four hours a day she toiled, and if she got any sleep, it 
come out of her time. Yes, the poor little embroiderer 
of Park Avenue — why had he not thought of her sooner? 

(Answer on the dotted line ) 

Silently he rose, and prepared to erect that monument 
of charity which should be more imperishable than 



18 MY NEXT IMITATION 

bronze. He filled his pockets with edible viands from the 
cafe — crackers and cheese, and hot, nourishing beef-stew ; 
he loaded his arms with toys for the children — oil paint- 
ings, and de-luxe editions, and priceless Balkan rugs from 
the clubrooms — yes, he had something for every member 
of the family, and with his load, he staggered out to Fifth 
Avenue. 

The street was slippery with thousands of dollars worth 
of ice, but he staggered steadily onward. He fell fre- 
quently, breaking something nearly every time. Once il 
was a soda-cracker ; once it was a Baluchistan rug ; once 
it was a couple of legs, but still he staggered on. His ears 
were frost-bitten; his nose Vv^as nipped by the bitter cold; 
his beef stew was frozen solid, but on he staggered until 
after a fearful journey the fitful lights of Park Avenue 
rose before him, and he saw that his desperate quest was 
nearly over. 

Panting, exhausted, but perfectly happy and contented 
in the consciousness of his awakened self, he stumbled 
into the hallway of the tenem.ent. Up one flight. Up two 
flights. Up three flights. Up four flights. Up five 
flights. Up six flights. Up seven flights. Up eight 
flights. Up nine fl — and then he remembered that the 
v/idovv lived on the third floor. 

He gained the landing. He knocked on where the 
door had been vv'ith a piece of Camembert cheese, which 
he had brought for the baby. The door wasn't there — it 
was inside — but Percy didn't notice it. His soul was 
above such things. He knocked more loudly, this time 



il/r NEXT IMITATION 19 

with the Edam. A chorus of shouts greeted him. He 
turned where the knob had been, and went in. 

"A merry Chr a mer " 

He stopped, and allowed his gifts to fall to the floor. 
Including the beef stew, they made a considerable im- 
pression. His charity had come too late. Far too late. 
A happy family smiled healthily at him. The widow had 
saved all their lives. They had already eaten the last em- 
broidered lobster off the derrick cover, and now they were 
warmly covered with the canvas, playing auction bridge 
for the claws. 



IV 

Disconsolate, forlorn, Percy DeCalcomania wandered 
back to the palatial club. His faithful limousine still 
stood shivering in the snow. He spoke softly to it. It 
did not answer. He spoke sharply. There was no re- 
ply. It was quite dead. So was Bristles. Bristles had 
died of excitement at sight of his master coming out of 
the club with that kind of load. And to make it all the 
worse he had thereby lost his bet of 2s. 6d. with King 
George that he could earn his own living in New York 
for twenty-four hours net. 

And so the Christmas spirit that had risen in the soul of 
Percy DeCalcomania bore fruit after all. That monu- 
ment more imperishable than bronze was still to be 
erected. On the spot where his gallant chauffeur had 
perished he caused to be placed a simple shaft of rein- 



20 MV NEXT IMITA TION 

forced concrete, on which the passer-by may read this 
touching legend : 

HERE DIED A VERY SOBER DUKE. 

And even now, fifty years after, every Christmas Eve 
there comes to this spot an old gentleman clad in sombre 
black, and lays upon the shaft a wreath of flowers. 
Sometimes gilli, sometimes cauli. And in the fulness of 
his heart he leads to this spot all the orphans and way- 
ward sons and defaulting bank clerks he can find, and 
with nickels he encourages them to weep as much as they 
like, and he always shows the little ones where to stand. 
No weep, no nickel. At half after eleven he dismisses 
them, and all alone, just as the bells toll the hour of 
midnight, he falls on his knees in the soft snow. This 
is the final ceremony. 

For it is not altogether unlikely that one of the or- 
phans may have dropped his nickel. 



MY NEXT IMITATION 21 



THE BETROTHAL— AFTERWARDS 

(Rudyard and I collaborated on this one) 

Bring down the old cigar box, not for a Cuba rare, 

But since, to remember Maggie, I keep all her letters there. 

Letters that say she loved me, and postscripts that never fail 
To limit my joy in smoking, and ask me if I inhale. 

Then came the ultimatum — she'd have no smoke in her frocks, 
So I wrote her a sweet dismissal, and ordered another box. 

"A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke," 
I wrote, and the Fates were laughing at thought of their little 
joke. 

For I had been priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year, 
And now I am out of the priesthood, and only a simple peer. 

'T was scarcely a short month later ; the doctor bade me to cease. 
And Maggie has wed another, and I am the Duke of Geese. 

Yes, take up the old cigar box, and put it back on the shelf. 
For women have changed their manners, and Maggie now smokes 
herself. 



THE LAST DEGREE 

(Inspired by a Nightmare after a Story by Walter Camp.) 

"22—41—6—8!" 

That was Marlborough (one of the Squantum Marl- 
boroughs) quarterback on the Crimson team, crying his 
signal on November 25th. 

"Bkib !" 

That was the aristocratic cranium of P. Mayflower 
Beacon, the fullback of the team, striking a blue-jerseyed 
opponent amidships as he careened over the goal line for 
a touchdown, also on November 25th. 

"Who blew out the gas ?" 

That was Jinks, the erstwhile and above-mentioned 
blue-jerseyed opponent, the best end-rush the world had 
ever seen, waking in a little white hospital bed on No- 
vember 29th. 

It was not the Jinks of old whose frightened glance 
roved from the sweet-faced nurse by his bedside to the 
sombre visage of the Captain, who stood towering over 
him. It was a changed, a metamorphosed, a diluted 
Jinks who met the Captain's eyes squarely, and frowned. 

"Yes," said the Captain gently, "they scored. But 
never mind. Next year — " 

"There will not be a next year," said Jinks clearly. 

"What? Calm yourself, old man. You have one more 
season on the team, and we'll — " 



MY NEXT IMITA TION 23 

"Never again shall my anatomy serve as a flux in 
wanton combat," said Jinks firmly. "Jamais encore, rien 
de tout, je ne vais phi:: — never again !" 

"But, Jinks—" 

"I see before me," said the ex-end solemnly, "the foot- 
prints of an irradicable past. I have wasted three years 
of college life, despising the works of Aristotle, and play- 
ing the game of football. I shall never play again, "or 
watch a game, or coach, until I have made amends for 
those wasted years." 

"But at least you must coach. Jinks ! We — " 

"Never shall I step on a field again until I have taken 
my degree." 

The Captain reddened. 

"You couldn t take a degree of Fahrenheit," he sneered. 
"You—" 

"So ! You mock me ! Then listen, Captain — I shall 
never play, or watch, or coach until I can write after 
my name every letter of the alphabet. Before I step on a 
gridiron again I shall take not simply one degree but 
all that there are ! I shall mxake amends for these wasted 
years. That's all. Nurse, remove the Captain !" 

On Commencement Day a year later. Jinks, capped and 
gowned, received from the hands of the Secretary of the 
Faculty his blue-ribboned parchment, and amid the silent 
scorn of his fellows, who had lost the annual game, he 
waved the diploma over the heads of the multitude, and 
cried in a low but modest voice, 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am John Jinks, A. B." 



24 MV NEXT IMITATION 



And they laughed at him, but he did not care. 

The college sorely needed him as a coach the following 
season, and prominent alumni urged him to forget his 
rash penance, and join the coaching staff, but he was 
working diligently in the Graduate School, and did not 
answer the letters. In due time he became Master of 
Arts, and Doctor of Philosophy, and four years from the 
fatal date of his last game he said to an admiring throng. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am John Jinks, A. B., A. M., 
Ph. D." 

It was at about this time that he became the subject of 
wagers among his friends. "Alphabetical" Jinks they 
called him, and made the odds a million to one that he 
would never complete his gigantic task. The first re- 
porter interviewed him, learning that on the date of the 
annual game with the Crimson, John Jinks was to enter 
the Engineering School for the purpose of acquiring the 
degree of B. S. He did enter, and the score of the big 
game was 42 to 0. 

Year by year the situation grew more acute ; the Crim- 
son totalled more and more points, the blue-jerseyed ends 
played worse and worse, and the odds on John Jinks went 
down and down. He was Master of Forestry, and of 
Civil Engineering, and enjoying himself. 

"But," objected an old professor, "you haven't played 
the game for seven years. They want you as a coach — 
but do you know the game as it is played now?" 

"I was All-American end," said Jinks quietly, fingering 
his dark blue tie. And the professor blushed and was 
silent. 



yj/F NEXT IMITATION' 25 

Torn between love and duty — to remain in the dear old 
college, or to seek the letter G — that was the question ; 
but duty conquered, and Jinks left Blue Haven for a 
neighboring town, where steady work for two years 
brought him his certificate as Graduate Pharmacist, and 
he was content ; but the Blue lost once more to the Crim- 
son, largely on account of her poor ends — poorly coached, 
the papers said. 

The athletic director of a small college in the west 
chuckled, and forv/arded to the old player a catalogue 
of courses, including one in Indie Philosophy. Inside of 
two days Jinks was in Muscatine, for I was an elusive let- 
ter, and one not to be disregarded. But the athletic di- 
rector gnashed his teeth to find that Jinks was not to be 
cajoled, lured, or bribed to the football field, and the fond 
hopes of securing him to coach the Muscatine ends were 
blasted. He took his degree and departed, leaving on the 
fxoor of his room two pairs of spectacles and a tattered 
pennant of dark blue. 

The new Harvard law degree of Juris Doctor caught 
his eye, and then Leipsic magnetized him to a two 
years' sojourn for the privilege of adding to his com- 
plement two fearful Teutonic words, of which the sym- 
bol among academicians is K. D. He returned to America 
for a course in Nautical Engineering and Osteopathy, and 
landed on the afternoon that the Crimson was victorious 
for the sixteenth consecutive year, by the overwhelming 
score of 99-0. 

"Hunt easy letters, my boy," urged the old professor. 
"The Blue needs you more and more." 



26 A/y NEXT IMITATION 

"I will," assented Jinks, and with great agility he 
passed on to Theology, Zoology and Veterinary Surgery. 

"When, oh when, will you come to our aid?" implored 
the alumni and the athletic board. 

"I am now studying Roman law," replied Jinks. "When 
I am done with Quadratics and Woodworking, I may lis- 
ten to your plaint." 

Below is a row of stars for dramatic effect. 

A red-faced old gentleman of perhaps sixty years tod- 
dled across the gridiron to clasp the hand of a wrinkled 
patriarch whose attendant had just wheeled him to the 
edged of the grass. 

"At last," said the red-faced old gentleman with tears 
in his voice. "At last!" 

"I'm glad to be here, Cap," said the patriarch in a 
cracked voice. "I hunted for X and Y for eleven years !" 

"And after all it was the dear old Blue that gave them 
to you, John. Actually invented degrees to bring you 
back to coach our ends — Doctor of Yogi Philosophy and 
Bachelor of X-Ray Science. Well — here are the candi- 
dates, John. And remember — we lost last year by 300 
points." 

The All-American end surveyed the dozen candidates 
in football clothes who stood in a line before him. Over 
the field a keen autumn wind was rushing, and the mellow 
October sun shone with a benediction upon the old and 
the new. John Jinks struggled to his feet and raised his 
right hand. 



MV NEXT IMITA TION 27 

"I — I — " he stammered weakly. 

He passed his hand uncertaintly before his eyes, and 
staggered back into the arms of his attendant. 

"Take your places," he muttered, "left end Blackstone, 
left tackle Murillo, left guard Galen, centre Mendelssohn, 
right guard Napoleon, right tackle Shakespeare, right end 
Homer, quarterback Caesar, halfbacks Hannibal and 
Chaucer, fullback Goethe and — and — " 

His voice faltered, but with a magnificent effort he 
stood erect, and with flashing eyes sweeping the awed 
group before him, he shouted in clear, ringing tones, 

"Coach— John Jinks !" 

Then he fell back once more, and the doctor came. 

Here are more stars. Same effect as before. 

:;: 4: ^; :|c 9|c :(( 4i 

Ex-Captain Wilkins and the President of the Univer- 
sity stood in the old cemetery before a simple but mass- 
ive granite shaft, silently contemplating the inscription 
thereon : 





JOHN JINKS 




A. B. 

B. I. P. 
D. 0. 

D. V. S. 


M. C. E. K. D. M. F. 
J. D. S. B. L. L. D. 
Q. M. Ph. D. S. T. B. 
M. W. B. X. R. S. D. Y. P. 


Ph. G. 
M. N. E. 
U. B. 
Z. M. 



Deceased at the Age of 80. 
Completely Educated. 

"He did his best for the dear old Blue," said Wilkins, 
weeping profusely. 

The President was thoughtful. • 



28 A/y NEXT IMITA TION 

"The doctors say he died of intellectual indigestion," 
he mused. "Who knows but that he might have lived to 
coach generations upon generations of blue ends if he'd 
thought sooner — " 

"He did his best for the old college," repeated Wilk- 
ins, "but he choked to death on the Yogi Philosophy." 

And as they stood there paying their silent tribute, the 
spirit of John Jinks hovered above them in active pursuit 
of an ethereal and idealized pigskin. 



A SUBURBAN HOME FOR $100 

(Mary Northend does 'em for House and Garden.) 

VIT'HEN Millicent and I decided that for the sake of 
' ^ the children we had better move out to a suburb, we 
agreed that we wanted an estate that would endure as a 
family mansion after the children were grown up. We 
both loved the sentiment of an old home to which all the 
members of the family may return at Thanksgiving and 
Christmas in the good, old-fashioned way. This de- 
sire meant that we must either build or purchase a house, 
and after a great amount of argument, estimating and re- 
connoitering, we concluded that we had better build. 
Our expenditure was limited to $100 which we had saved, 
and our income was $12 a week, which was my salary as 
a lighthouse salesman. 

By reading the newspaper advertisements, we found 
that we could buy a building lot in Sanitown for $25, so 
that as soon as we had seen the property, we closed the 
bargain at once. It was a very desirable location on the 
main street of Sanitown, only three miles from the center 
of the village, and six miles from the railroad station 
from which there was ready commutation to New York, 
as trains went over the road every few hours. 

We had a book of house plans, all of which seemed 
unsuited to our purpose. Millicent wanted a Dutch Col- 
onial brick bungalow, and I cared little about the archi- 
tecture as long as there was room for a billiard table and 
a smoking room. We were still discussing the minor 
points when it occurred to us to have Walter, our eldest 



30 MV NEXT IMITATION 

son, aged twelve, take a correspondence course in archi- 
tecture, building, decorating, excavating, and painting, 
which we secured for him at a cost of $9.50. During the 
eight months which the course required, I cleared the lot 
of stones, brush, and stumps, weeded it, and graded it 
with a patent shovel borrowed from a neighbor. The lot 
was 22 X 26, so that the work presented no inconsiderable 
difficulty. 

As soon as Walter had thoroughly mastered the tech- 
nical details, we excavated. From what we could learn 
from the plans in The Ladies Home Journal, it takes sev- 
eral hundred dollars to excavate the foundations of a 
house, but we did ours for $1.50 — the price of a wheel- 
barrow. A little later Millicent succeeded in fashioning 
a very dainty baby-carriage out of the wheelbarrow. 

The house was finally made a cross between a Queen 
Anne and a King Charles. The first story was pink stucco 
built on fieldstone buttresses, and the rest was clapboards 
and shingles painted green. For the foundation we 
utilized a large number of stout pine trees from a near- 
by grove, and pieced out with $3 worth of railroad ties 
from a public-service auction. The stucco was the result 
of several experiments conducted by my second son, 
Rudolph, who collected pebbles in a market-basket all 
day, and brought them home at night, when his mother 
mixed them with the proper ingredients, and colored the 
mixture with a pink dye from the drug store. The cost 
of the stucco was less than $3.75. 

The clapboards and shingles we bought — $8 worth, 
and as this amount was not sufficient to cover the entire 



Jl/y NEXT IMITATION 31 



sides and roof, we made shift with about five hundred 
square feet of building material made of extremely tena- 
cious and malleable substances, and covered with a tar 
finish which rendered it impervious to the elements. 

We were able to economize on chimneys by the for- 
tunate discovery of some bits of discarded gas main, 
which did very well, indeed, and added a very Heppel- 
white appearance to our modest home. 

Inside we finished the house in burlap and white. The 
burlap was brought home by Rudolph after many clande- 
stine excursions to a storage warehouse where many 
valuable stuffs were to be had for the asking. He also 
secured for us a few hundred laths of various lengths 
which naturally found a resting place as wainscoting. 
The wood for the floors I bought from a planing mill. 
The upper part of the floor was therefore quite smooth, 
while the ceilings were charmingly rough, and gave the 
impression that we were to live in a truly fashionable 
log-cabin. 

I had now expended nearly $60 of the allotted hundred, 
so that a generous margin was left for the garage, chicken 
house, servants quarters, and a hothouse. 

Luckily our lot was on a side hill, so that by tunnelling 
into the rear, we could cunningly fashion a garage at 
small expense for building materials. We roofed it with 
sheet tin, and covered the sides with colored pictures out 
of the public prints of the day. I doubt if there is a more 
cheerful, homelike garage in the country, and if I ever 
get a motor car, the garage will be an admirable place 
to store it. The net cost of this adjunct to our estate 
was $7. 



32 MV NEXT IMITA TION 

The hothouse was entirely the work of Millicent, who 
undertook to provide the glass, and obtained it after fol- 
lowing a suffragette parade through the business districts 
of the greater city. We charged off $2.55 for the hot- 
house, this being the amount Millicent expended on rail- 
road fares and cartage. 

For the servants, in case they arrived unexpectedly, 
we built a Georgian semi-convertible cottage out of three 
piano packing-boxes, and some twenty-six coffins which 
the local undertaker thought were out of style, and sold 
us for $5.25. 

That left us $45.10 for the chicken house, and we so 
managed our slender finances that we had $44.60 left for 
the chickens. 

As you come upon "Rose Hill" from the highway, you 
will be instantly struck by the landscape gardening which 
was the pride and joy of my son Rudolph. With nothing 
but his two hands, a trowel, and the address of our Con- 
gressman, he constructed an Italian sunken garden where 
once was merely a rather unnecessary little swamp in the 
front yard, and he further screened us from the public 
by a hedge of alder bushes which of course cost us noth- 
ing at all. The pergola, of white painted gaspipe, also 
requisitioned from the local company, adds a summery 
touch which is pleasantly commented upon by the unlet- 
tered proletariat. 

The main house is one of three rooms downstairs and 
two rooms upstairs, each with its own color scheme. The 
drawing room is white and bark-color ; the dining room 
is white and log-color ; and the living-room is plain white. 



MV NEXT IMITA TION 33 

The bedrooms are dainty combinations of light white and 
dark white. The varnishes, stains, veneers and poHshes 
of which so many dealers speak fluently are absolutely 
unessential to a modern dwelling. 

I built "Rose Hill" at a total cost of $99.97. On warm 
evenings when I take my rocking chair out under the per- 
gola, and breathe the odor from the sunken garden, now 
abloom with rambler roses and trailing arbutus, I think 
of the poverty-stricken denizens of New York, flushed 
and panting in their wretched apartments, for which I 
understand that some of them pay as high as $50 a month, 
and I am glad that I can recommend to the weary toiler 
in the city a campaign such as mine for light, air, solitude 
and contemplation. 

I am now contemplating putting a mortgage of $75 on 
"Rose Hill," and if I am successful, I am willing to 
finance anyone wishing to build in my vicinity, and 
Walter, my eldest son, will gladly act as architect or help 
in digging the well. High cost of living? The capitalists 
are fooling us — there's nothing in it ! 



34 MY NEXT IMITA TION 



AD WOODROVUM 

(_Me and Rudyard are very fond of this meter.) 

If you can keep the tariff rates protective, 

And steel yourself against the foreign-made, 
And also keep democracy effective 

By agitating free, untrammelled trade ; 
If you can check financial depredation 

By putting down the trusts with iron hand. 
And yet maintain the credit of the nation 

By keeping friends with Wall Street's vested band ; 
If you can mouth a speech on woman's voting 

And win the favor of the surging sex. 
Without inferring, saying or denoting 

The terse de minifnis non curat lex; 
If you can please the many by selecting 

A cabinet that won't displease the few, 
An then persuade the few that you're expecting 

To grant them — later — signal honors, too ; 
If you can keep the pace with foreign powers. 

While roaring war to show you yearn to fight, 
And take your wonted sleep of eight full hours 

When duties keep you busy half the night ; ; 
If you can read what papers say about you, 

And never think of libel when you read, 
And gather politicians sage about you 

To follow where you, untried novice, lead ; 
If you can smile when greater men attack you, 

And lose with grace where lesser men had won ; 
Why, four years hence the universe will back you. 

For you'll have been Some President, my son ! 



OUR CLUB 

(You can't blame me me for these. I had to read Boswell's 
Johnson in College.) 

SOON after the doctor returned to America, which was 
in June, was founded that CLUB which existed long 
without a name, but after Mr. Jeffries arrival in July be- 
came distinguished by the title of the D. and O. Club. 
Sir William Bryan had the merit of being the first pro- 
poser of it, to which the doctor acceded, and the original 
members were Sir William Bryan, Dr. Dentatus, Mr. Dev- 
ery, Mr. J. Edward Addicks and Mr. Hobson. They met 
at the Plummet and Sinker, Broadway, Battery, S. W., 
where Dr. Dentatus, one evening in each day, continued 
his conversation until a pretty late hour. 

Mr. Cannon (now Lord Reciprocity) had said, "I trust 
that the least intimation of a desire to come among you 
will procure me a ready admission," but in that he was 
mistaken. Dentatus consulted me upon it, and when I 
could find no objection to receiving him, exclaimed, "He 
will disturb us by his buffoonery." But a short time after 
the institution of our club a still more fortitutous event 
for Mr. Cannon occurred. Mr. Hobson was speaking 
of the club to Cannon. "I like it much, (said he), I think 
I shall be of you." 

"He'll he of us, (said Dentatus,) how does he know we 
will permit him? The first Duke in Alabama has no 
right to hold such language." And when Mr, Cannon 
was regularly proposed some time afterwards Dentatus, 



36 3/y NEXT IMITATION 

who had thus taken offence at his arrogance, warmly 
and kindly opposed him, so that he was accordingly 
elected. 

We talked one night of the mode adopted by some to 
rise in the world, by courting great men, and asked Dr. 
Dentatus if he had ever submitted to it. DENTA- 
TUS : "Why, Sir, I was never near enough to great men 
to court them." BRYAN : "You may be prudently 
attached to great men, and yet independent. But you 
are not to do what you think wrong " JEF- 
FRIES : "And, Sir, you are not to pay too dear for what 
you get." DENTATUS : "No, you must not give a 
shilling's worth of court for sixpence worth of good. 
But if you can get a shilling's worth of good for sixpence 
worth of court, why. Sir, you are a fool if you do not 
pay court." 

We spoke of the advancement of learning in the Sen- 
ate. "Sir, (said he,) you have learned a little from me, 
and you think yourselves very great men. You Sena- 
tors are imitators. Lodge would never have edited books 
unless Frye had done it before. He is an echo of Frye." 
CANNON : "But, Sir, we have Lord Depew." DEN- 
TATUS : "You have Lord Depew. Keep him, ha, ha, 
ha ! I don't envy you him." 

Pie then talked several hours on the freedom of the 
will, especially his own. "Sir, (said he,) I kno7v my will 
is free, and there's an end on't." But at this point some- 
one observed that howbeit with the will, travelling is not 
free even for a presiding executive ; upon which Dr. Den- 
tatus hurriedly left the room. 



MY NEXT IMITA TION 37 

MORE OF OUR CLUB 

We dined to-night at the CLUB ; with us was Sir Fred- 
erick Cook, who was but lately admitted; before Dr. 
Dentatus arrived we talked a good deal of him ; Addicks 
said that he had always found him a very polite man, and 
that he worshipped him. HOBSON : "But some of 
you spoil him ; you should not worship him ; you should 
worship no man, not even myself." BOSWELLI- 
VER: "But he is so much superior to other men." 
DEVERY: "In wit and conversation he is no doubt ex- 
cellent ; but in other respects he is not above other men ; 
he will not believe anything you tell him, and will strenu- 
ously defend the most minute circumstance touching on 
or appertaining to one of his hobbies." 

SIR FREDERICK COOK : "I think it would furnish 
pleasure and profit if we were concomitantly to make a 
tour." JEFFRIES: "Let it not be to the West." 
HOBSON: "Or to the South." DEVERY: "Then it 
may as well be North." COOK : "That, Sir, is the last 
place I should wish to travel." BOSWELLIVER: 
"Should you not like to see the Pole, Sir? Is it not 
worth seeing, tell me?" COOK: "Sir, worth seeing, 
but not worth going to see." 

No sooner did the doctor arrive than we were as com- 
posed as at a funeral, and so remained until he desired 
Sir Frederick Cook to make a pun extempore. COOK : 
"Upon what subject?" DENTATUS: "Upon the 

Kink of Denmark." COOK: "Oh, Sir, the King is 
no subject." This incident shows the versatility of the 
great man. 



38 My NEXT IMITA TION 

Lord Reciprocity (ne Cannon) observed that the Sen- 
ate, since the passage of the McKinley Bill, has had 
nothing to do. DENTATUS : "Well, Sir, you have 
been equal to it." SIR WILLIAM BRYAN: "It is 
pleasant to be an officeholder ; it is a difficult thing to be 
out of office." DENTATUS : "Difficult, Sir ! I wish 
it were impossible !" 

Several gentlemen were proposed for membership, and 
the following were elected : Lord Depew and Fingy, 3rd 
re-Count Conners. Speaking of re-Count Conners' news- 
paper, the Courier, Mr. Addicks observed that it had 
blazed the way to Democratick supremacy. LORD 
RECIPROCITY: "Yes, Sir, and it is still kindling." 
DENTATUS : "For that purpose. Sir, it is admirable." 
JEFFRIES : "I care but little for the newspapers. There 
are but twelve that I care to count of merit." DEN- 
TATUS : "Why, it was told me of you that you can 
endure to hear no more than ten counted." 

Mr. Hobson, fearing that he must leave us. Dr. Den- 
tatus said, "Pray, Sir, don't go, for we may perhaps 
forget to think of you, and then you will cease to exist." 
Talking of oratory, Sir William Bryan said that it is 
the art of beating down your adversary's arguments, and 
putting better in his place." DENTATUS : "Beating 
down your adversary will do. (Write that down, Bos- 
welliver.)" 

Shortly afterwards a man-servant entered with a mes- 
sage for the doctor which summoned him to East Au- 
rora, and the company accordingly dispersed. 



MY NEXT IMITATION 39 

AT THE CLUB 

This night marked the admission of Lord Depew and 
Fingy, 3rd re-Count Conners, into the D. and O. CLUB. 
Upon their entrance Dr. Dentatus placed himself be- 
hind a kind of pulpit, and, with humorous formality, gave 
them the Charge, pointing out the conduct expected from 
them as good members of this club. 

Sir William Bryan received congratulations upon his 
elevation to the peerage as Duke of Nebraska. *T am 
afraid (said he), that I shall but ill illuminate the 
House." "You should (said Dr. Dentatus), have been 
born lantern-jawed." It was noted that Lord Depew 
took small part in the conversation. Mr. Devery remon- 
strated with him, and asked for some of his renowned 
jests. "Are they permitted here?" inquired the noble 
Lord, with tears in his eyes. "They are (said Lord 
Reciprocity), as well qualified as you yourself." Accord- 
ingly Lord Depew regaled us for an hour. 

ADDICKS: (to Sir Frederick Cook) "I am sorry to 
see, Sir, that one of the magazines has been making you 
ridiculous." DENTATUS : "That, Sir, is Hke white- 
washing coal." 

We talked of the new manner of garments affected by 
vulgar women. DENTATUS : "A woman. Sir, in 
bifurcated skirts is a suffragette in overalls ; she aims 
at the ballot by aping my dress ; she should rather ape 
my manners." ADDICKS : "You would command a 
caterpillar to roar." DENTATUS: "Most assuredly. 
Sir, if it chose to stand against a steam-roller." 



40 MV NEXT IMITATION 

DEVERY : "Mrs. Pankhurst may do as she pleases ; she 
will not get the ballot by roaring." DENTATUS : "No, 
Sir, but if she roars long enough she will produce an echo ; 
an echo continues after you have quit ; I know for I have 
been both; Mrs. Pankhurst will win the ballot." NE- 
BRASKA : "What then? You may get yourself a cigar ; 
before it is of use it must be lighted ; Mrs. Pankhurst 
tries to light hers under a pump." Re-Count CON- 
NERS: "The gentleman says well, but—" LORD 
RECIPROCITY: "Yes, but—" HOBSON: "Can a 
woman order a man-of-war? Can she enforce the laws? 
Can she dispense justice? Can she serve in politicks?" 
JEFFRIES: "Woman, Sir, is potential omnipotence. 
She is a woman-of-war." DENTATUS: (laughing) 
"Could a woman not take a ship away from a captain 
when one has already taken a house from an Admiral?" 

I proposed for membership the Hon. E. N. Foss and 
Mr. John McGraw. Dr. Dentatus supported both gen- 
tlemen to my horror ; and they were immediately re- 
jected by a flattering majority. 

Dr. Dentatus here made a quotation in Arabick. "I 
fear (said Addicks), that I have lost all my Arabick." 
"You must have lost it (said Dentatus), about the same 
time that I lost my dignity." With this sally the CLUB 
disbanded. 



MV NEXT IMITA TION 41 

THE D. AND O. CLUB 

We were concerned at the CLUB tonight of university- 
men, and inquiring if they may with propriety engage 
in pohticks. Dentatus warmly maintained that they 
might. "For why (he urged) should not scholars re- 
ceive honorary degrees as well as those who succeed in 
politicks." I said, scholars should stick to their books. 
DENTATUS : "No, Sir. I and Caesar wrote books ; we 
were scholars, and politicians, too. Caesar is read two 
thousand years after his time." BOSWELLIVER: 
"And you will be." DUKE OF NEBRASKA: (nee 
Bryan) "But not until then." JEFFRIES: "A uni- 
versity is essentially a well-sanctioned athletick club, with 
none of the gate money accruing to the contestants." 
DEPEW: "You, Sir, are not a college man." DEN- 
TATUS : "He is a graduate in the chymical sense." 
Re-COUNT CONNERS: "The doctor says well." 
HOBSON: (sotto voce) "He says too much." AD- 
DICKS : "But do you maintain, Sir, that scholarship does 
not unfit a man for politicks ? Look at Wilson." DEN- 
TATUS : "A college man may be turned into a good 
politician, if he be caught soon enough. Scholarship is 
of the lamplight ; politicks shun the lamplight." DEV^ 
ERY: "You mean, I suppose, that statesmanship fears 
not the bright orb of day?" DENTATUS: "No, I 
mean that it needs no light at all. A true politician is 
an owl; no Diogenes." NEBRASKA: "If Diogenes 
were alive now, Sir, and entrusted his mission to Mr. 
Devery's detectives, while they prosecuted his purpose, 



42 MY NEXT IMITATION 

some nefarious wretch would make off with his tub." 
ADDICKS : "Does that imply the presence of politicians, 
Sir, or of collegians?" NEBRASKA: "But, Sir, a 
college does assist a man. It gives him breadth. Mr. 
Taft is a college man." DEPEW: "Yes, and so is 
Mr. Hearst. He is a Harvard man." BOSWELLIVER: 
"Sir, if Mr. Charles Eliot heard you say that, he might 
consider it actionable." DEPEW: "And a college 
man is a poor hand at making money ; and in politicks — " 
Re-COUNT CONNERS: "Pray use more care in ar- 
ranging the juxtaposition of your words. Sir; you fret 
me." DENTATUS : "I do not believe that many great 
scholars (excepting me) become great politicians (ex- 
cepting me). You can wrestle with an abstruse book, 
and, if you master it, what good does it do you? But 
if you wrestle Vk'ith a human opponent, and master him — " 
JEFFRIES : "What good does it do him?" DENTA- 
TUS : "Sir, it teaches him not to wrestle with his master." 
HOBSON: "But each of us has his master!" Here Dr. 
Dentatus hummed the second line of the chorus of 
Comin' Thro' the Rye. ADDICKS : "Is not a scholar 
talking politicks a little tiresome?" DENTATUS: 
"More than that. Sir, completely tiresome. But often it 
wants a scholar's intellect to succeed in politicks. When 
I fought a duel with Aldrich in a darkened room over 
politicks, becoming pitiful, I thought to fire up the chim- 
ney. I did so, and I hit Aldrich. Now, if he had read 
Henry James in the original, he never would have crept 
up the chimney." BOSWELLIVER: "No, and if he 
had read the newspapers, he never would have got himself 



3fK NEXT IMITA TION 43 



alone with you." DENTATUS : "That, Sir, is a de- 
Hberate and unquahfied prevarication." JEFFRIES: 
"Re-COUNT CONNERS is no bachelor of arts, and 
neither am I." DENTATUS: "Sir, when 'tis folly 
to be wise, some men are geniuses." CONNERS: 
(waking from a nap) "The doctor says well." At this 
point the doctor was hurriedly summoned to the tele- 
phone by Mr. Charles Murphy, so that the meeting ad- 
journed. 



44 MY NEXT IMITA TION 

THE END OF OUR CLUB 

There was upon us this night a pall of mind which, 
I hope for the felicity of the Republickan party, few 
experience. At the end of the table (shaped like a 
horseshoe, that there might be no foot, but only a head) 
Dr. Dentatus held the chief position ; glowering, fore- 
boding, and rarely silent. At his left sat William, Duke 
of Nebraska; then Lord Depew, Fingy, 3rd re-Count 
Conners, Sir F. Cook, Mr. Jeffries, Mr. Devery, Mr. 
Hobson, Mr. Addicks, myself and on the doctor's right 
Lord Reciprocity (Mr. Cannon). Dr. Dentatus and 
Sir Frederick Cook wore black. 

"We have," remarked Lord Depew, "in this club dis- 
cussed but two subjects, Dr. Dentatus and Dr. Dentatus' 
policies." DENTATUS: "Well, Sir, I am tired of 
neither." "There is little doubt," said Mr. Devery, "that 
in this world nothing is more valuable than the discus- 
sion of such a great man, for whose conversation even 
the walls have ears." ADDICKS : "They may, then, 
well desire to have mouths." DENTATUS: "Why, 
Sir?" ADDICKS: "So that they may yawn." 

HOBSON : "You may be as rude as you please ; when 
the doctor quitted the executive chair the republick trem- 
bled ; the cargo of the ship of state shifted ; Gaynor w^is 
Lord Mayor; the Rocky Mountains ceased to serve as a 
sounding board." It was observed that the doctor sat 
silent : I would excuse this by stating that he was eating 
a dill pickle. COOK: "Do you cogitate, o giant?" 
DENTATUS : "I do, o pigmy." COOK : "But, Sir, 



MY NEXT IMITATION 45 

I referred to the size of your intellect." DENTATUS : 
"And I, Sir, to the size of yours." We observed that 
the doctor was still conscious. 

NEBRASKA: "Sir, will you not make your farewell 
address as quickly as possible?" Dr. Dentatus, hastily 
scribbling a contributing editorial to conceal his emotion, 
rose forthwith and addressed the club as follows : Gen- 
tlemen, it grows late, and the hour of separation is at 
hand. Recollect how I came to be of you ; no man more 
MacVeaghed against ; no man more elastic, for, like 
Truth, I shall rise again; you can't stop me. I came 
to you in tears ; I shall leave you in a pathetic outburst 
of tears which I shall summon at the proper occasion. 
I beseech you to remember, gentlemen of the Down and 
Out Club, that government for the people, by the people, 
and in spite of the people shall exist ; and that only as 
we accept and practice my policies can we find peace 
in this administration and in the administration to come." 

The clock went ten. Dr. Dentatus burst into hot tears, 
and strode to the door, muttering under his breath. It 
sounded like "innocuous desuetude." He had been re- 
tired even from this club, and was gone to found a second 
degree, the membership not being sufficiently exclusive. 
Too far down ; too far out ; he took his medicine without 
flinching. After a pause Sir Frederick rose, and stag- 
gered blindly after him. Together they stumbled out 
into the unknown. 

The Club was no more. 



WHISHKBROOMSKI 

A play on One Act 



{Written under the influence of Maxim Gorky) 



CHARACTERS 

Snitchoznich — A peasant. Droschke — His wife. 

Samovar — Their child. Ikon — A passer-by. 

SCENE : Hut of Snitchovitch in Siberia. Samovar is asleep. 

Droschke : How vghcold the schuzsknow is ! 

Snitchovitch : Yes, and the kvolghice is vhgcolder than it zwas 

last vostwinter. 
Droschke : Oh, how I hateski, hateski, hateski the aristiffstoc- 

racy ! They keep bgkrwarm all vostwinter ! 
Snitchovitch: (Standing on his own feet.) Yes, there is one 

chcurious thing about the richnikoff. 
Droschke : And that is ? 

Snitchovitch : They khivalways have phzmoney. 
Droschke : And what about the poor dmitripeopleovitch ? 
Snitchovitch : They also petropossess one characterisgoloffter- 

istic. 
Droschke: And that is? 

Snitchovitch: They have no caviarmoney at all. 
Sanuwdr: (zvaking) Krichniholgosz kihilitznovgorod ! 
Droschke: How kjplainly he jspeakze The poor nijninfant is 

schungryovsk. 
Snitchovitch : Well, give him some borisf ood. 
Droschke : There ain't none, alasvoytemkin ! 
Snitchovitch: (Goes to windozv.) Here comes Ikon — he is vod- 

karichski. He probably has rublemoney with him. 
Droschke: What of thatska? 
Snitchovitch : Go and maslovarob him. We gottaski stand for 

the squaredealovitch. 



MY NEXT IMITATION 47 



(Droschke goes and robs him) 

Ikon : Helpska, helpska ! 

Snitchovitch: {lighting his knout) Allovar ! 

Ikon: (faintly) Politzei, adamowski ! 

Droschke: (returning) Here is his plantavolgawallet ! 

Samovd: (feebly) Krovlakremlin nevskiprospekt ! 

Snitchovitch: How kjplainly he jspeakz! That's the kvway to 
zsettle the richnikoff — take their caviarmoney away from 
them. 

Droschke : But krishnisuppose you and I got richnikoff. Would 
we want anybody to zhwytake away our caviarmoney? 

Snitchovitch : No, that's vladivoskadifferent. 

Droschke: All menjhoff are petrobrotherz. 

Snitchovitch : Only on Mondayski, Wednesdayska and Friday- 
chik. This is Thursdayoij. And now that the vladimiquesz- 
tion of sozhcial equahrzlity is slezettled, the plaj'gorod (bow- 
ing to audience) is phrinisched. What did you iskvtexpect 
for a zschnickel? 



48 MV NEXT IMITATION 

AN IMITATION OF A FOOTBALL GAME. 

FAIR DAMSEL— Oh, isn't that little man cutef Don't 
you — 

CHORUS — Hit the line for Harvard, for Harvard — 

FIRST ROOTER— Can't keep his feet, but he's an All- 
American — 

SECOND ROOTER— Son-of-a-gun to drop that— 

MUGGSY — Popcorn, five cents a — 

THIRD ROOTER— Yard to gain ! By gosh! He did it! 
Hurray for — 

SECOND ROOTER— Hades ! He dropped another ! 

CHORUS — Blue bull dog howls boola, boola, boo! Let 
out your — 

JIMMY — Arm bands, ten cents a — 

LEADER — Long cheer for the team, fellows! Every- 
body — 

CHORUS — March, march on down the field; fighting 

for— 
PATSY — Programmes, twenty-five cents ! 

CONFUSED ROAR— And that's why Mamie— doesn't 
smoke a pipe — because the onside kick — hit the line 
for — peanuts, five cents a — look at that Eli, he — 
echoes to the sky I See the crimson — first down, he 
can't run for — Mike, who's the man with the — first 
down, ten to — rip up 'em through, while — Father, 
that guy is — off my toe, there! — So Minnie's hat is 
simply — rotten ! rotten ! — Then, fight, fight, fight, for 
we win — last year it was — to-night, we'll go in town 
and — smash 'em through — for God, for Country, and 
for — Peanuts, Five a Bag! 



MY NEXT IMITA TION 49 



QUEENS OF THE WORLD 

(This is a parody of that thing we all had to learn at school.) 

First, Annie of Scotland, then Josie the Hun, 

And Susan, who toiled from the sun to the sun. 

She left us to marry, and sent us instead 

First Mary of Antrim, who burned up the bread. 

First Jane, second Susan, and Bridget the first. 

Who hungered for wages, and suffered from thirst. 

Then Lizzie the Beauty, who stayed for two days, 

And at sight of the baby demanded a raise. 

Next, Flora the Faithful, who lasted a year, 

And Minnie, and Martha, and Helma the Queer. 

Third Susan — but breath is the wages of gin, 

So Lucy acceded, and Sophie the Finn. 

A brief interregnum of hotels — then Dinah, 

Angelic at cooking ; a demon at china. 

Second Mary, first Lola, and ebony Sue, 

A jewel — we miss her — and most of ours, too. 

Thus ended the line, and the Agency fees, 

And the royal succession devolved upon these ; 

Queen Hannah with snuffles, and Thunderbolt Kate, 

And Clara the Terror (her waffles were great!) 

Next Wilma the Smasher, who came from the North, 

And Rosa the Slothful, and Susan the Fourth. 

And after rebellion, a Jap, and a Greek, 

God sent us our Jessie— we've had her a week ! 



T 



MARKET LETTER 

(I'd been reading some of Babson's stuff in the S. E. P.) 
HE financial outlook typifies the spirit of unrest 



among those who are inclined towards dissatisfaction 
with existing conditions. During the next week we may 
expect slight upward or downward movements in those 
securities which are generally recognized as subject to 
change. Wise traders will deal with emergencies as they 
arise. 

The high cost of living is unaltered, either from the 
fact that food products cost more than the situation jus- 
tifies, or because gold has less purchasing power than it 
would have if food products cost less. The new admin- 
istration will undoubtedly affect the cost of living. A pro- 
tective tarifif will cause some commodities to advance in 
price, and others to decline, and free trade will bring 
about a contrary condition. 

Railroad bonds are recommended for those who wish 
to buy or sell under present complications. It is impossi- 
ble to predict whether the railroads are dominated by the 
banks this week, or if the banks are dominated by the 
railroads, but as both banks and railroads are controlled 
by the same parties, there is also some reason for acquir- 
ing bank stock. 

The small investor is urged to wait until he is assured 
of rock-bottom prices, and then wait patiently until he 
can sell at the highest point. A man who follows this 
procedure is moderately certain of a small profit. 



MV NEXT IMITA TION 51 

Advice to correspondents : 
J. L, P — The best time to unload International Prune 
common is just before the Chautauqua convention. 

D. H. K. — There are not at present any full-paid and non- 
assessable U. S. Government 7s in the market. 

H. J. G. — By all means sell the cow. 

O. V. — You are right. You cannot buy Steel for 50 
cents a week per share until paid for, but you can 
get a large amount of iron filings for your half dollar. 

T. Y. S. — She's a bear. 

V. V. v.— I said that G. T. R. R. was active. I didn't 

say that it would advance 100 points in a week. You 

must have confused this column with the billiard 

tournament. 
Fred. — Save your $2,000. In a few months you should 

be able to buy a Stock Exchange seat with it. 

A. D. P., A. S. M., L. E. K., L. D. R., F. J. W.. Bill C, 
M., H. P., J. L. H., E. L. H., W. K., L. A. I., G. T. 
E., R. O. L., and others. Well, boys, it looks as 
though I made a little mistake, doesn't it? 

C. A. — I can't advise you about Pulmotors. I know noth- 
ing about machinery. 

H. T. — Glad to know you cleaned up $8 on your plunge 
in copper. 

R. A. E. — Tell your grandmother that she had better 
write to Mr. Wilson. I don't know the color of 
Andrew Carnegie's eyes. 



52 A/y NEXT IMITATION 

THE POET TO A COUNTER CLERK 

{With utter indifference to Richard Le Gallienne) 

I would not change my humble lot 

For any in your giving; 
I'd sooner live by pen and blot 

Than try to earn a living. 
But you and I are close in heart 

And everybody knows it; 
For while I hymn my lady's limb 

Your work is to enclose it. 

Ah, let me sing my lady's eyes 

In lyric strain caloric ; 
While you can win another prize 

By fitting them to toric. 
And if I claim Clorinda's hands 

Should lift her to the heavens, 
You, clerk-in-love, shall bring the glove 

And fit her number Sevens. 

Ah, let me sing of Chloe's lips, 

So dainty ! So esthetic ! 
And you may audit credit slips 

And bill her for cosmetic. 
And if I laud her graceful form 

And curves that are alluring, 
Why, you win praise by selling stays 

That keep her grace enduring. 

Olympus' heights are higher far 

Than any cashier's seat; 
I cannot drive proud Phoebus' car 

Down Forty-second Street. 
Yet we two form a partnership, 

And let us neither loathe it — 
For while I hymn my lady's limb 

Your mission is to clothe it. 



MV NEXT IMITATION 53 

THE TARIFF-RAFF 

(Thank you, Mr. Gilbert) 

As I my daily stroll began 

In search of news to print, 
I met a melancholy man 
A-gazing at the mint. 
A fond desire warmed his face, 
As though he planned to buy the place. 

I took the stranger by the throat 

In intimate caress ; 
And said, "I am a man of note, 
A member of the press. 
To fill my column for today — 
Tell me your story — while you may!" 

He searched my eyes to find the joke. 

And, seeing none, he tried 
To interest the passing folk 
But failing, loud he cried, 
"My tale is short, my life is rare, 
Release a humble millionaire !" 

"I import goods of foreign sphere — 

I freely grant the facts ; 

I make a million every year 

And pay no customs tax." 

I gripped him still more firmly, and 
I took my fountain pen in hand. 

"I found," he said, "no profit in 

Importing wool or brass; 
No gain in sugar, lace or tin. 
Or diamonds, snuff or brass. 
The average of duties meant 
A paltry seventy per cent." 



54 MV NEXT IMITA TION 

I took him firmly by the ears 

And gently said in sport, 
"It most decidedly appears 

That you have friends in court." 
He shook his head as best he might, 
And said, "How prettily you write !," 

"I make my wealth by buying things 
From many foreign shores ; 

Both paraffin for finger rings 
And palm leaf fans in scores. 
And many other products, which 
Are duty free — like colored pitch." 

"I bring no furs nor boots and shoes, 

I import orange rind, 
And English-made cathedral pews 
And music for the blind." 

I gripped him by his curly hair, 
And said, "How came you millionaire?" 

He said, "There is no money mifde 

In bringing marble hence ; 

The profit in my simple trade 

In life-boats is immense. 

I'd pay a tax of thirty-three 
On pins — canary seed is free! 

"My ships are filled with caraway, 

And radium and ice. 
And sausages, and, strange to say, 
Plain skeletons are nice. 
The tariff laws, if truth I tell, 
Protect my business very well." 



MY NEXT IMITATION 55 

I grasped that stranger by the nose, 

To aggravate his health, 
And cried, "Come, tell me how you rose 
To such tremendous wealth?" 
He said, "I always had a wish 
To be importing frozen fish." 

"Importers who are tossed by fate 

Waste time in politics ; 
Free articles approximate 
Two hundred thirty-six 
And so," he said, "I can bequeath 
My son ten tons of German teeth." 

"I gather Frankforters again, 
And bring them duty free ; 
The law protects our workingmen 
On silk, and soap, and tea.. 
And so I spurn such things as these, 
And deal in wax and honey bees." 

I rocked him gently to and fro; 

He said, "I specialize 
In unfermented biscuit dough — 
So let the tariff rise !" 

I tossed him in the gutter then 
And overworked my fountain pen. 

But e'er the thing was put in print, 
He wandered in and bought the mint, 
And ne'er shall I forget the hint 
Of him whose wealth was won by dint 
Of trading free in peppermint 
And colored chalk and Irish lint. 
While tariff laws protect the work 
Of Jew, of Slovack and of Turk; 
And never let importers make 
Life cost us less. 

For Tariff's sake. Amen. 



BOOKS 

(Yes, I read the newspapers, too) 

THE fancies of book modistes seem to have run riot 
this season. In place of the austerity of last season's 
models we find many quaint and original bindings for 
all occasions to suit every taste and purse. 

Women with pretty hands, with or without rings, are 
carrying one of the latest novels by Claude Fritzgibney. 
This is bound in white pique with a heavy wale, and 
opens at the back in two revers over white pearl buttons. 
Since this novel is perhaps better worn without gloves, it 
is frequently seen at the seashore, where it costs $1.50 
without the text, or $3.50 with complete :«text and il- 
lustrations. 

For light reading in the limousine or touring car the 
shops are selling many copies of Harry K. Raw-Raw's 
"Suburban Life," which comes in satin foulard binding 
to match the lining of the car. For bourgeois use a 
vial of Eau de Petrol is given away with each copy. 

A neat volume for the yacht is "The Ship That Foun- 
dered Herself," by Woodyard Kindling. This is in 
white duck, with a canvas back and illustrations in 
water color that admirably match milady's yachting 
costume. 

Mrs. Archibald Hooley-Hooley Van Rensselaer was 
recently seen riding in Gramercy Park, and wore a 
newly published book by Jack Mitchel, entitled "The 
Mare of New York." This was done very Roycroftie 



^ MY NEXT IMITA TION 57 

in chestnut-colored horsehide to match the horse, with 
hand-colored borders to match Mrs. Hooley-Hooley 
Van Rensselaer. The first edition of this book was ex- 
hausted before publication, and the public is yet to be 
heard from. 

The well-bred woman frequently reads in her boudoir 
before retiring, and her choice this year is likely to 
be Robert Hallroom's latest effusion, which comes in low- 
cut white silk with trimmings of Stilton lace and bows 
of wide satin ribbon in many shades, so that either the 
costume or the complexion may be matched. 

Since velvet is fashionable this season there are many 
smart bindings of this material. At the X. Dividends 
tea on Thursday Mrs. Dividends received her guests in 
dark blue velvet, and appeared very intellectual with a 
complete set of the Encyclopedia Brittanica bound in the 
same material under her arm. Each volume was trimmed 
with dark fur around the skirt, as was also Mrs. Divi- 
dends. This combination will be extensively copied. 

A few good books in plain bindings are still read by 
the masses. 



58 MV NEXT IMITA TION 



TROTTERS 

{A parody of a parody by myself) 

She has danced the thumping Czardas with a Czech, 
She has trod the proud mazurka with a Hun ; 

And she's dabbled with the tango, and she's good at the fandango, 
And she knows the modern dances every one. 

She has travelled Paris, France, to Paris, Maine, 
She knows continental Rome, and Rome, New York ; 

She has whirled the staid morisco in the staidest home in Frisco, 
And she's often jigged with Irish lords in Cork. 

She has tried the Highland Fling where they are flung, 

She has tripped the gay bolero in Seville ; 
She has romped a mad cotillon with New York's renowned 
four million. 

And in England she has hornpiped on a hill. 

She has known the music of the saraband. 
And the turkey-trot is seething in her brain ; 

She has tempted fate by guiding gilded youths in Gaby-gliding 
And she's tried the horrid cancan by the Seine. 

It is possible that I am out of style; 

It is possible that she is true, and sweet ; 
But I'd feel much more elation in girls' higher education 

If it rose a trifle higher than their feet. 



THE ROAD TO AFFLUENCE 

{or, Gorged with Randolph Chester). 

TT had taken Jimmy Cozzens the best part of three 
-■- months to secure an introduction to Wilkinson, the 
capitaHst; and, although the introduction was a climax 
to Jimmy, it was apparently only an incident to Wilkin- 
son. His time was entirely too valuable to fritter away 
in small talk ; rumor had it that his income was some- 
thing over four dollars a minute and that his greatest 
ambition was to increase it to five. In Jimmy he saw 
no latent possibility ; he saw only a nervous young man 
with steady eyes and a good chin, and he had long 
passed the stage of prosperity when he was flattered to 
behold nervousness in those who interviewed him. 

In fact, he was so little impressed with Jimmy's per- 
sonality that when the young man called at his office 
a few days later, and sent in his card, he had forgotten 
all about him. In response to the office manager's 
statement that Mr. Wilkinson was very busy Jimmy 
replied that he wished to present a proposition that might 
enable him to relinquish business altogether, and live 
idly in the country for the rest of his days, and the 
office manager was so disconcerted that he admitted 
Jimmy to the august presence with permission to con- 
sume not more than twelve dollars' worth of time, with 
the usual discounts. 



60 MV NEXT IMITATION 

Jimmy went in and closed the door. 

"Well?" said Mr. Wilkinson. 

"The scheme is," began Jimmy brightly, "to make 
something out of nothing. Does it interest you?" 

The capitalist lighted a cigar, and waved Jimmy's 
cigarette case back to him. 

"You have my permission to smoke," he said gra- 
ciously. "What's the idea?" 

"Simply this — a theatre." 

"My dear young man," said Wilkinson, "do you real- 
ize that the theatrical business is one of the most spec- 
ulative in the world?" 

"Mine isn't. To be explicit, it's as safe as lending- 
other people's money. It's safer." 

"You interest me," said Wilkinson, "go ahead." 

Jimmy drew his chair nearer the great man. 

"Suppose," he said, "we build a theatre — " 

"You mean, / build a theatre." 

"We agree on that point at least. Very well, you 
build a theatre. The question is, what shall we pro- 
duce?" 

"Tragedy," said Wilkinson, promptly. "I was. al- 
ways strong for tragedy." 

"No — it won't do. You forget that coal has ad- 
vanced during the winter, and there has been a waiters' 
strike. People don't want to see biography at a theatre." 

"True — well, then, comedy." 

''Don't you know that the people have seen so much 
comedy in the political campaign that there's no use in 
trying it?" 



. MY NEXT IMITATION 61 

"I believe you're right," said Wilkinson. "Well, why 
not try musical comedy — burlesque?" 

"Good ! Tell me why you think so." 

"In the first place, because the youth of America are 
already educated to it, Mr, Cozzens — and after that — I 
suppose the scenic effects are restful to tired business 
men." 

■ "You've hit it," said Jimmy. "Now, sir, what's the 
most popular feature of musical comedy?" 

"The chorus," replied Wilkinson instantly. 

"Correct. Well, sir, my plan is to produce musical 
comedy at the lowest possible cost. There will be no 
high-salaried stars ; chorus girls can be had for eighteen 
dollars a week ; and we will stage burlesques of which 
the cast will be composed entirely of chorus girls." 

"My dear man," said Wilkinson, allowing his cigar 
to go out unheeded, "I wotted not that you were a 
genius. Tell me more!" 

Jimmy beamed ; it was easier than he had hoped. 

"In the first place, we'll have the unqualified support 
of the Progressive party. As you probably know, they're 
so tired of monologues that they'll flock in droves to a 
place wlhere there's nothing but a chorus — a literal vox 
populi. We'll have all the college boys with us, too, and 
with Progressives and college boys for a start, our suc- 
cess is a matter of days." 

"How so?" 

"Because," said Jimmy easily, "when the undergrad- 
uates begin to haunt our doors, they'll attract upwards 
of a hundred thousand uneducated young men with 



62 Afy NEXT IMITA TION 

money who want to mingle with collegians in the hope 
of appearing like them. The Progressives will bring 
their wives — the collegians will bring their admirers, and 
society will besiege the box office." 

Wilkinson relighted his cigar with trembling fingers. 

"Go on!" he said hoarsely, "I would know more." 

"Very well. We'll have nothing but a chorus, so that 
the expense will be small to start. Then we'll have 
no author's or librettist's royalties to pay — " 

"Why not?" 

"Dear Mr. Wilkinson," said Jimmy patiently, "did 
you ever hear a chorus sing the words of its songs so 
that you could understand even a single^line ?" 

The financier shook his head. 

"We'll start 'em in with one of Hepry James' novels," 
said Jimmy. "Following that, we'll put on the message 
to Congress, and we can make a wonderful finale out of 
the editorials in the Press. It won't cost us a cent, 
and the public won't know the difference." 

"But — costumes ?" 

"Nothing simpler," said Jimmy. 

"Lighting?" 

"Oh, I forgot that. You see, instead of having the 
conventional lighting system we'll have the theatre il- 
luminated with electric advertising signs. I have eleven 
contracts in my pocket — all colors. Most of them are 
as elaborate as moving pictures, and if the audience 
tires of the chorus they can look at the signs." 

"Go on," said Wilkinson in low, passionate tones. 

"The schedule of prices is unique," explained Jimmy 




MY NEXT IMITATION 63 

"The first row seats cost a quarter — " 

"What !" 

"Exactly; and each seat has it's price plainly marked 
on the back. The second row is half a dollar, and each 
row from there on costs a quarter more until the thir- 
teenth, after which everything is four dollars. There are 
a hundred rows." 

"But — only millionaires can afford to sit in the back 
rows !" 

"You don't know society!" retorted Jimmy. "After 
the first night you'll never see a soul further forward 
than the tenth row. Society can't afford not to sit in the 
rear at those prices." 

"But— the boxes !" 

"The boxes are of two kinds, Mr. Wilkinson. Those 
from which one can see the stage are ten dollars a seat; 
those from which one can't see anything, but in which it 
is impossible not to be seen by the entire audience are 
twenty dollars a seat. They'll all be taken for every 
performance." 

"How do you figure that?" 

"Easy enough. Real society will pay twenty dollars 
to be seen; imitation society will pay ten in the im- 
pression that they're being exclusive." 

"Marvellous!" said the capitalist. "I — " He reached 
for his check book, and hesitated. "One thing more, Mr. 
Cozzens — the speculators." 

"I'm glad you mentioned it — I have a new system. 
The schedule of prices is over the box office, of course, 
and there will always be plenty of twenty-five-cent seats, 



DEC 20 1913 



64 3/V NEXT IMITA TION 

which no one will want. All others will be sold by uni- 
formed speculators on the sidewalk, each one sworn in 
as a special policeman. In the morning papers each day 
will be published a list of those who bought tickets from 
these speculators, and appended there will be a list of 
clubs in which each purchaser holds membership, and a 
description of his wife's costume." 

"But the cost of the advertising?" 

Jimmy laughed aloud. 

"You forget, sir," he said, "that most advertisers 
insist that their copy be placed alongside pure reading 
matter. With the graft probe, and scandals, the money 
trust, and all the other disturbances here in town, there's 
no more pure reading matter printed. The newspapers 
will actually pay us space rates for these lists, and run 
them as news in order to protect their advertising con- 
tracts, and every advertiser will be fighting for a position 
next to our list." 

"My dear man," said Wilkinson, hastily scribbling 
a check in seven figures, "you can have my backing to 
any amount. There's only one question I'd like to ask 
— where did you get the wonderful experience that you 
must have had to conceive this idea?" 

"Why, Mr. Wilkinson," said Jimmy heartily, "I've 
never had any experience at all. "I've lived in a suburb 
for ten years, that's all, and my wife is fond of the 
theatre. Do you understand?" 

The financier's tears were tears of joy. 

Where do you live? 



